After this morning's lecture let out, I found a bunch of books for my apologetics paper in the library. I read a few things from each one-- trying to get a feel for the language of philosophical argument. It's not like math exactly but there are problems-- arguments. And they proceed from one to the other like chemistry equations-- this yielding that, etc. But then again, not exactly. I loved my Philosophy of Religion class in undergrad. The proofs and arguments.
Reasons and logic for and against the existence of God, the cosmos, even the ground we were standing on. And now, in this class, it is similar only with the language of theology. That we reason things not based on logic or what we can see but we believe things because of our heart's root assumptions. And then we lay our heart out before God as revealed in Scripture and we are guided.
Our professor is a story-teller/philosopher, a renaissance man of the highest order, is avuncular and makes you feel like you are at the Sorbonne or Harvard because of the way he weaves Greek and French and German into the conversation and cites Aristotle and has met Auden.
So today when I wanted to have a serious work session, I tried to read in the library but got too antsy. It wasn't until I got up to the second floor of the Carriage House that I could seriously get focused. It's a study lounge with tables and couches, a printing station, water coolers. But also, there is a pack and play, a foosball table, and a kids' train table, too.
I'm perusing the tables of contents and starting to get into my outlines. I'm feeling overwhelmed but I'm trying to just take little manageable chunks at a time. Well, finally, the thing that helps me get momentum is when 3 mothers bring their toddlers up the steps to have like a little coffee group. Maybe ten students take that as an opportunity to pack up and leave. I, however, was able to tuck in and work for an hour straight. I was guided by the realization that in a few short hours, I would again be in the world of toy arbitration, Harry Potter recounting, and a laundry pile the size of the Eiffel Tower.
So, thank you, three anonymous fiesty Korean toddlers. You aided my study today. Thank you.
